SAY IT ISN’T SO

How can this be? Surely time is playing a trick on my heart. On paper it’s probably overdue, but I still just don’t want it to end. Our nights together. In some ways it feels different this time, because you’ve napped and started your nights in your own room for a while. It was easier that way, and quieter for you while we’d bath and tuck in your sister.

You started it actually. We began putting you down for naps in your room and one day we put you down at 4pm and you just kept on sleeping. I had to call my own mother for advice. What do I do? When do I get her? She must be hungry? I started sneaking in to get you at 9pm for a feed, and to bring you in our room for the night. A few weeks later it was 10pm, then 11pm, and for the past few months I sneak in just before midnight. Some nights I’m so tired and most days I tell myself I’ll sleep while I wait to get you, but I never do.

I’ve always been a nighthawk so I just found it easier to stay up, sneak in your room to get you, bring you in ours, and nurse you back to sleep. Eventually, you were sound asleep when I went to get you, so I didn’t even have to nurse you. You probably could have started to just stay in your own room at that point, but I wasn’t ready. I love scooping you up. You’re always so warm and your face looks so peaceful, with your bottom lip tucked in so snug it almost looks like you’re smiling. I always take a minute to just admire you, and sometimes I even wake your Daddy up to look at you too. Oh how you’ve stolen my heart in a way I didn’t think possible to have happen twice. I love you in a way I can’t put into words, there is just this deep feeling of a connection. We were one once, you and me, and that will never not be true. Like your sister, you are a piece of me and so nothing feels better than having you close.

The nights have always been our time. Even in my belly, when the chaos of the day settled and the world around us quieted down, you started to move. I’d lay they and soak in every sensation of you. Then when we brought you home, after we’d put Lou to bed, I would go downstairs and just hold you. You always fell into your deepest sleeps on me, and I revelled in every chance to have you do so.

These past few weeks my emotions felt preoccupied by the logistics of it all. What if you need a paci? If you cry, will it wake your sister? What if you are hungry? I almost felt guilty for not feeling as emotional about the looming transition as I did with your sister. But sitting here, wide awake in my bed in the middle of the night, without you beside me… I know what I was doing. My subconscious mind was trying to distract myself from reality. I procrastinated for weeks and slowly did little things, baby steps, to prepare us for this big night. I bought you extra pacis, and I got you a pretty nightlight incase you get hungry and I have to come in. I did everything I could to make this transition easy, but there is nothing I can do to make lying here alone any easier on my heart.

I want you to know that I’ve loved it, every second of it. Your warm body and peaceful face. Watching you drift into la la land while you feed. I always kiss your left cheek, tell you you’re so sweet, and thank you for being my baby. I lay you down, then crawl into bed beside you and pull your playard close. Right up against the bed. Nighttime together is my favourite way to end the day.

I always want you close and always will Andie darling. But I’m so proud of you; dreaming so softly while I’m wide awake writing this letter to you. I’ll wait up all night, ready to jump at the chance to go in and scoop you up if you need me.

Sweet dreams, my baby girl. Mama loves you so.